


Velvet and Words

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Getting Together, Hotels, M/M, Stand Alone, Van Days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4498419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Patrick wants is for Pete to kiss him and mean it.  He wants to taste velvet and words.  He wants to feel the way their bodies melt together.  He wants hands to grab wrists as they both fight for dominance.  He wants to pull apart, gasping for air, and go right back underwater and fight the tide.</p>
<p>Instead, he gets a bassist who molests him onstage and then runs off to find a girl to drag to some closet or a boy to make out with behind the van.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velvet and Words

All Patrick wants is for Pete to kiss him and mean it. He wants to taste velvet and words. He wants to feel the way their bodies melt together. He wants hands to grab wrists as they both fight for dominance. He wants to pull apart, gasping for air, and go right back underwater and fight the tide.

Instead, he gets a bassist who molests him onstage and then runs off to find a girl to drag to some closet or a boy to make out with behind the van. Patrick is left to pray for a cold shower alone (fat chance) or an empty bathroom stall.

After a week, he manages to get a handle on the stage erections, but then there's Pete playing with his hair in the van or Pete leaning his head on Patrick's knee while he sings or Pete saying they'll be warmer if they share blankets.

There's nothing to be done. Patrick tries to pull a Pete and sleep with some random girl, but he ends up chickening out and leaving her topless in the club bathroom. That night he punches Pete too hard for a joke and Pete punches him back and Andy has to threaten to stop the van.

Patrick ends up scowling under a blanket in the backseat, silently calling Pete every swear word in the book and making up a few of his own. He's already dreading the show the next day. The only plus is they have a hotel room for the night, but that means sharing a room with Pete since he keeps everyone else awake.

When Patrick wakes up a few hours later, Pete is sitting on the floor in front of his seat. It's still dark and the older boy has headphones in, apparently trying to sleep before his driving shift. Patrick reaches out, gently brushing the older boy's shoulder. Two brown eyes open and turn to look at him.

_'Sorry,'_ Patrick mouths. And he means it, even if it's all Pete's fault. The other boy smiles and lifts his hand to gently brush Patrick's hair back. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, but his hand remains.

The next night Patrick expects Pete to take off the minute they dump their bags on the hotel beds. It's the usual routine, Pete running off to fill some empty part of himself with someone else, coming back to snuggle against Patrick and try to keep the fullness from slipping away.

Tonight, however, Pete immediately digs his iPod out and shoves his earphones in, curling up at the head of a bed and flipping open a notebook. He pulls the cap off a pen with his teeth and spits it across the room without looking up. He doesn't say a word or even acknowledge the other boy in the room, so Patrick takes it upon himself to shower. When he comes out, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt and towel drying his hair, Pete is in the same position.

He doesn't look up when the younger boy comes out, never breaks from writing. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are mouthing words but Patrick can't be sure if they're the lyrics or what he's writing. 

The young boy turns the television on, but keeps the volume low. He's been watching the middle of some cop drama up to the conclusion when Pete give an audible sigh and pushes the notebook off his lap to the edge of the bed. He yanks the earphones out viciously and meets Patrick's eyes. "I want beer. I'm going to get beer. Do you want anything?"

"You're not going out?" Patrick asks, trying not to sound surprised.

Pete rolls his eyes and stands up, stretching and giving a look of distaste to the television show. "I'm coming back and can we not watch that crap when I do?"

Now it's Patrick's turns to roll his eyes. "Just get me whatever you're having."

Pete nods, grabs his room key and wallet and disappears without another word. He left the notebook open on the bed and Patrick really wants to read it, but he closes it instead. He sets it on the nightstand and wraps Pete's earphones around his iPod before placing that on top. His fingers skim lightly over the pillow on the other boy's bed before he realizes what he's doing and pulls his hand back. He sits down on his own bed and tries not to think about it, but he's already hard.

He's in the bathroom when Pete gets back and the sound of his name when he hears the muffled noise of the door opening is enough to send him over the edge. He bits his bottom lip and tries not to whimper as he comes into his hand, bare toes curling painfully against the bathroom tile.

He flushes the toilet and washes his hands and tries to look less like he just got done jerking off before he opens the door. "Hey."

Pete tries not to smirk and fails. "Hey." He pushes a beer bottle into Patrick's hand to cover the embarrassment. "Drink up. I've got a lot of forgetting to do." He clinks his beer bottle against Patrick's and swallows. The younger boy notices two empty plastic shooter bottles on the bed with six more unopened ones.

Patrick takes a small swallow of whatever cheap beer Pete bought. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Pete returns simply. "I want to drink. Do a shot with me."

The younger boy swears inwardly, but just nods. "Yeah, okay." They have a hotel because they have an early interviewer and they're going to be fucked, but what does Pete care? People love him (or hate him) no matter what mood he's in.

They each do a shot and then Pete makes Patrick do another one so he's "caught up". The younger boy sits down with his back against the headboard and Pete sits beside him, pressing their thighs together. He's already changed the channel on the television to a network editing of _The Breakfast Club_. The older boy finishes his first beer and opens a second, tapping Patrick's bottle with a fingernail. The younger boy takes a swallow to appease him.

"So what happened with that girl the other night?" Pete asks. "The redhead." As if there are so many other girls it could be.

"Nothing." Patrick can feel his cheeks growing pink just thinking about it and he takes another drink to try and ward off the conversation.

"So you took her into the bathroom to do nothing?" Pete asks him in a deadpan voice, not even bothering to raise his eyebrows at Patrick, just giving him a look that clearly states he doesn't believe it.

Patrick continues to drink, trying to ignore him. But then his bottle is empty and Pete is still looking at him, demanding details and a story and a lot more than what Patrick has to give him. "Nothing happened. I tried to make out with her and she took her top off and I freaked out and left." He blushes harder and hangs his head slightly and Pete hands him another beer.

"Drinking helps," he explains. He presses his lips to Patrick's cheek in a sloppy kiss. "Generally you stick around when they do that though."

"No, _you_ stick around," Patrick mutters, taking a swallow from the new beer. "Maybe we should do another shot."

"That's why you're my favorite," Pete exclaims gleefully, leaning forward to snatch a couple more shooters from the foot of the bed. He presses one into Patrick's hands and twists the cap off his own with his teeth, spitting it across the room in no particular direction. "We both get to drink to forget."

Patrick wants to point out that he wouldn't need to forget anything if Pete hadn't brought it up in the first place, but he doesn't, just swallows the bitter liquor down and chases it too quickly with beer that ends up splashing him in the face. He's swearing as the older boy laughs and reaches over to wipe at Patrick's face with the sleeve of his hoodie. "You're so cute when you're angry."

Patrick scowls at him and Pete laughs, pinching his still slightly damp cheek. The older boy finishes his beer and reaches for a third. "You know, I always pictured you as more gay but I bet guys scare you worse than girls do."

"I am _not_ scared of girls," Patrick snaps. He's really a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and he's getting defensive and starting to slur and he really hates Pete for not just going out and committing his usual sins of debauchery. "What the fuck are you drinking to forget anyway?" The curse word makes it sound angrier than it actually is and he has to lower his eyes and mumble a small 'sorry' when Pete narrows his eyes, an actual heat in his irises.

"I don't _like_ sleeping with everyone, you know," the older boy finally mumbles quietly. Patrick had never considered it. "I have to, to feel better, but I don't like it. Like medicine."

_Or a drug._ But Patrick doesn't say it out loud. "You don't though," Patrick tells him, reaching out to lay his hand gently on Pete's knee. "You don't." He gets an eyeroll and a sarcastic grin in response. "You could just sleep with me," he whispers, the alcohol making him braver but not brave enough to meet those bottomless eyes when he says it.

The response is immediate, without any hint of surprise, and Patrick feels like he's been punched in the gut as the words hang in the room. 

"I don't want to fuck you up with me."

_'I don't want to fuck you up with me.'_ Patrick lifts his head then to meet those eyes that are looking at him sadly, completely earnest in their declaration of fear as to what they would do to Patrick. And he can't even wrap his head around it. Like there's anything about Pete that doesn't fuck him up already, but he wants to be fucked up, and he's willing to get shaken up and thrown around for him, and he would _kill_ for him but instead he gets this shit, Pete wanting to protect him from something there's no way of protecting him from.

"I want to be fucked up with you." Patrick lifts his hand and gently takes the beer bottle from the other boy, sets it on the nightstand with his. He turns back and puts his hand on Pete's cheek, braces himself for impact, and leans in for the kiss. He's softer and out of practice, but the older has the harder, practiced moves as he tilts Patrick's head slightly and twists his hands in the boy's tee shirt to pull him closer. 

At first it's tentative, just searching for the taste, and then suddenly they're twisting to lay down and fighting to pull clothes off and Pete is on top of Patrick, a weight he's only dreamed about, and lips are kissing their way down the younger boy's belly and he only just realizes what's going to happen about a second before Pete's mouth is open and swallowing his cock. Patrick isn't even sure when he got hard, but he is now as he twists his fingers in the other boy's hair and moans. He tries to bite his lip, but it keeps slipping out between his teeth and no one should hear them anyway if he doesn't scream, right?

Pete hates giving blowjobs. It's a dull thought in the back of Patrick's mind as he struggles to keep from bucking straight up and choking the older boy. It lasts no where near long enough, but Pete's sliding up his body and Patrick moans as their erections brush together while he hovers there, smiling down into the younger boy's face. Pete kisses him and Patrick kisses back hungrily, deeply, squirming and moaning and hardly daring to believe this is finally going to happen.

"We can't fuck," Pete whispers in his ear. "We're too drunk."

Patrick whines and arches up against him and the older boy swears, pushing him back down roughly by the hips. "No, 'Trick."

"But--" His pleas are silenced by a hand wrapping around his length and lips pressing against his. Pete is swallowing his moans and Patrick is rocking his hips back and forth. Pete's got a sure rhythm as he moves his hand up and down, stopping to twist his thumb across the head or tickle Patrick's balls with his fingers as he moves down the base. He never stops and eventually he feels Patrick's hand bump against his as the younger boy reaches down to return the favor.

It takes them a moment to figure out how to position their wrists so they aren't bumping against each other awkwardly, but eventually there's a pattern between them and Pete has to stop kissing Patrick so he can just bury his face in the boy's shoulder and moan. Patrick's swearing more than Pete has ever heard him in his entire life and he's choking out his name in there on occasion. 

Patrick finishes first and Pete comes the minute he feels it happen. Patrick's got his mouth open and he's not even trying to muffle his moans at this point. The older boy bites his shoulder to keep his noise in and that just makes Patrick buck up and swear louder. 

Pete collapses against Patrick when he finishes and laughs at the noise of displeasure the younger boy makes when he feels the stickiness spread across their stomachs. "I _just_ showered."

"You're the one who wanted to fuck. And you think that would be less messy?" Pete teases him, getting up to find a towel and cleaning up both of their torsos since Patrick seems incapable of moving at that point. He turns out the light and climbs into bed and the younger boy presses against him, tilting his head to whisper in Pete's ear.

"I meant it though."

Pete leans down to kiss his forward. "I know you did, 'Trick. Sleep now."

"Sleep now," Patrick agrees. 

In the morning, Pete's dressed and he wakes Patrick up and makes him go down to the shitty continental breakfast. Nothing feels different but everything is and Pete kisses Patrick on the cheek before they head out to the van.


End file.
